by Kevin R. Doyle
Guilt can be a powerful temptation as well.
~*~
Father Robert stood in the cubicle and looked over the interior of his church. This late at night, only a few people resided in the pews. One woman, dressed in black, had just lit a candle. Robert knew she still mourned the death of her youngest child a year before. Farther back an elderly couple, two of the regulars of his parish, knelt together and prayed, so close their shoulders touched.
And another figure. It sat in the pew farthest back, next to the church doors. In the dim electric lights, it seemed more of a shape than a substance. Father Robert watched it for several minutes. It didn’t move, neither standing nor kneeling and, as far as the priest could tell through the darkness, not even praying. It merely sat there, straight in the pew, and looked ahead.
Continue reading THE TEMPTER IN THE SHADOWS
by James Rawbone
To forgive, not forget.
~*~
Last year’s leaves were a brittle carpet underfoot as he strode through the woods. A small casket was tucked under one arm; his free hand grasped a spade. His shoulders were hunched under the black leather of his trench coat, and he glanced to neither side.
Every so often he stopped to listen, but the trees were wrapped in a dead silence. Nothing moved; no birds called, there was not the snuffle of hedgehogs or the sudden scamper of rabbits. The woods lay sleeping this short February afternoon as if the cold had frozen the life within it. The pale sun was already casting long, weak shadows as the man looked up to the grey sky and shivered.
Continue reading BURYING THE PAST
by Gail Dennehy
When even the undead are dying, it can’t be good.
~*~
He had watched the boy for several hours. Not as emaciated as some of the others in the house, the young man was still beautiful. Already lost in a chemical haze, the child’s eyes glowed with an almost supernatural light. He found himself attracted and continued to watch him as the boy tied off his arm, inserted the syringe, and emptied the drug into his vein. Patient as always, he waited, and watched again until the stupor receded, and the boy began to nod into a natural sleep.
Then, he fed. He could taste his satisfaction, like imported sherry trickling warm down the back of his throat. He walked away, leaving the addict drained on the floor of the shooting gallery.
Continue reading THE UNDYING
by P. F. White
What’s the saying? Feed a cold, starve a Fever?
~*~
I first approached the great Counting House of New Mechantine as many of my generation have: in wanton desperation.
Times had been tough, the years unkind and my fortunes long since spent. I was seventeen, my parents newly dead and not a single soul giving me succor. The Counting House had taken our dwelling and meager possessions and left me destitute and alone. I had no friends or relatives of kind disposition and indeed knew few people altogether.
My choices were not many.
Continue reading THE COUNTING HOUSE FEVER
by R. S. Pyne
Revenge is a dish best served…not at all.
~*~
It was raining when they put Gerhard Drakensturm in the ground.
Like scared rabbits in headlights, the uninvited guest thought, watching the funeral from a discrete distance. He took photographs and muttered into the recording device he always used on such surveillance jobs. Watched as Drakensturm’s daughter turned to look at him; a tall girl with long auburn hair, her funeral suit new, designer and almost certainly expensive. From her file, she lived in London and had only recently signed with a modeling agency. Looked like a top flight model and posed for his camera with only a hint of self-parody.
Continue reading REMEMBERANCER
by Wendy L. Schmidt
Truth is often stranger than fiction. And often more frightening.
~*~
Three days before their first anniversary and Nick couldn’t believe his luck. Finding the house felt like some sort of magical gift. It was as if fate had stepped in and drew him to it. He’d spotted the “for sale” sign on the way to work that morning. The perfect starter, he thought, red brick with a small covered front porch, just what we’ve been looking for.
A quick call to the realtor confirmed it was still available and the price was right. They arranged a viewing that very afternoon and made an offer the same day. The couple was pleasantly surprised when it was accepted so quickly. The former occupants had moved out already, which meant the house was available for immediate possession. Moving in would be a cinch.
Continue reading HOUSE FOR SALE, EXORCIST NOT INCLUDED
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Welcome to F&T! Fear & Trembling features horror and suspense with a spiritual twist. Now, not every story will have a spiritual element, but you'll find here intelligent fiction that touches on eternal themes. On the other hand, sometimes you'll come across some good old fashioned, frightfully pulpy fun. Either way, we hope you enjoy each of these stories that just won't die.
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